"On the 7th of October [1802] I set off, in
company with Joseph Jewell, the presiding elder, for the Bay
of Quinte circuit. We had a terrible road to travel from the
head of Lake Ontario to Little York, as it was then called,
now Toronto, over hills and creeks, through mud and water,
but at last arrived in safety. We had an appointment for
preaching on Yonge-street in the evening of the next day.
After the sermon by Mr. Jewell, I gave an exhortation. The
people requested that I might be left for a few days to
preach in the neighborhood. I accordingly staid behind, with
the understanding that I should go on in a short time. At
the time appointed I set off, but was taken sick with
influenza on the way. Being tenderly nursed in the house
where I stopped, I soon recovered, mounted my horse, and
rode some miles, when my faithful animal was taken sick and
the next day died. Here, then, I was alone in a strange
place, without money, without a horse, and, as far as I
knew, without friends. I trusted in God alone, and he
provided for me. In about half an hour, during which I
hardly knew which way to turn, a gentleman came along and
offered to lend me a horse on condition that I would defer
my journey to the Bay of Quinte, and agree to remain in
those parts preaching for some time. I thankfully accepted
his offer, mounted the horse, and went on my way rejoicing
up to Little York. The settlements in this part of the
country were all new, the roads extremely bad, and the
people generally poor and demoralized. Our occasional
preachers were exposed to many privations and often to much
suffering from poor fare and violent opposition. Seth
Crowell, a zealous and godly itinerant, had traveled along
the lake shore before me, and had been instrumental in the
awakening and conversion of many of the settlers, so that
some small societies had been formed; but they were far
apart, and I found them in a dwindled condition. On Yonge-street,
which was a settlement extending westward from Little York
in a direct line for about thirty miles, there were no
societies, but all the field was new and uncultivated, with
the exception of some Quaker neighborhoods. Among these
'Friends' I formed some pleasant acquaintances." He had met
with some of them in the scenes of his earlier ministerial
labors. They liked his earnest spirit and his doctrine,
though they disapproved the practical system of Methodism,
especially its organized ministry. Sometimes, traveling at a
distance from their settlement, they would join his
Log-cabin congregations, and after the sermon rise and bear
their favourable "testimonies." One of them, hearing him in
his first circuit, was so inspired and delighted by his
fervent discourse as to ask "liberty to testify" to it, and
then proceeded to say that, while listening, "It was given
him to rise to the blessed vision of the Revelator — he saw
the angel, bearing the everlasting Gospel, flying through
the midst of heaven. This is the everlasting Gospel which
they had heard that day," and the good Quaker went on to
support his Methodist brother with a home-directed
exhortation to the wondering people. The two speakers had an
agreeable interview after the service, and comforted each
other on their way heavenward. The itinerant always
afterward liked the Friends, though he deemed some of their
peculiarities unscriptural, and frankly told them so. He
resolved now to visit their settlements along the extended "Yonge-street"
route.